Today's OneWord: Coil

I watch as the snakes begin to coil around the rusted sword, their tongues flickering out every once in a while and grazing the metal blade as if to taste it. The entire cathedral, besides those two reptiles, is completely desolate. Not a single artifact lies in merely one shape or piece - it is all splinters, powder, and shards. I stoop down to pick up what was once a crucifix. All I hold now is Christ's head nailed to a metal plank.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Tonight's Poet Corner: Introspection

Saturday's Storyteller: "Though it had been amusing at first, the mounted deer head's constant quoting of memes was beginning to wear on us."

Tonight's Poet Corner: Introspection